


Fuck-N-Run

by WordsAreTrulyBeautiful



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BAMF Harry, Blind Date, Dirty Talk, M/M, POV Alternating, Post Hogwarts AU, Protective Harry, Shameless Smut, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, just a touch of fluff, lots of spells, slightly possessive Severus, sort of romance, visuals in the notes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 12:17:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9270893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAreTrulyBeautiful/pseuds/WordsAreTrulyBeautiful
Summary: Prompt: Could you do a fic with the theme that they're set up on a blind date and one is a hopeless romantic and the other is a cold hearted sex fiend?“Dates are simply the social etiquette required to be displayed before two people can bed each other without causing a scandal"





	

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt was sent to me via my ask box on my [tumblr](http://potions-and-potters.tumblr.com/). I didn't mean for this fic to be more than a few thousand words, but I'm rubbish at keeping things short. 
> 
> There are some visuals in the notes at the bottom. I don't own the images I'm linking to; I just used them as inspiration. 
> 
> I actually finished this a few days ago but held off posting until today, the ninth of January, for dramatic effect in honour of one Severus Snape's birthday. I think he'd appreciate the gesture. So, Enjoy the fic, and HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SEVERUS SNAPE!
> 
> Also, this hasn't really been edited, so I apologize for any mistakes.

 

The ambush came on a chilly Thursday evening.

The Weasley house was quiet except for a soft love song playing lowly on the radio. The man’s tenor voice drifted throughout the living room as the fire crackled lightly. Warm candle light bled into the room from the kitchen, where the scent of freshly baked pumpkin scones wafted out.

If one strained an ear, it was possible to hear the low murmur of voices from outside, and the odd creak of a floorboard from upstairs. Most everyone was in the garden, watching stars and talking about the upcoming Quidditch World Cup. Ron’s voice was particularly lacking in the chorus of support every time the Bulgarian National Quidditch team was mentioned. Of course, he would say it had nothing to do with Viktor Krum, and everything to do with his now unwavering support of the Holyhead Harpies, and his pride in his little sister’s position on the team.

It was in this moment, lulled into a false sense of safety and relaxation, as Harry Potter sat by himself on the worn couch with a Butterbeer in hand, that he was ambushed.

“It’s _one_ date, Harry!” Ginny exclaimed in exasperation, looking down at Harry as her fiery red hair fell across her eyes. Beside her, Hermione nodded. She stood with her wand in hand, ready to hex Harry if he tried to make a break for it – again.

“I don’t want to go on a date!” Harry replied with his nose wrinkled in distaste. “And definitely not a blind one!”

“It’ll be good for you, Harry,” Hermione said, looking far too much like she wanted to help him.

Harry didn’t need help.

Sure, he hadn’t gone on a date for a while, but he wasn’t looking to date. He was perfectly content with his adventurous club loo hook ups, and odd tumbles in broom closets at various events (most of which were thrown in his honor anyway, so why shouldn’t he have a little fun at them, anyway?). Did these tales make it onto the front page of the Daily Prophet? Yes, usually more often than not. However, Harry had been dealing with lies concerning himself being published in that rag since he was eleven, so he really didn’t care if a one night stand declared they made passionate love in the Three Broom Sticks’ store room. It was far better than watching another relationship blow up in the public eye, and having to pass by every witch and wizard holding a copy with his failed love life on the cover.

At least that’s what Harry told himself, anyway.

“You’re starting to get a _reputation_ ,” Hermione said in a scandalized tone.

“Great, what are they saying about me now?” Harry asked, taking a sip of his butterbeer. “Have I turned dark, and decided that Voldemort had the right idea this whole time?” he joked bitterly into his cup.

“No,” Hermione replied, clearly annoyed at Harry’s dismissal and zero-fucks attitude.

“There’s a rumor that you’ll have sex with anyone that compliments your eyes,” Ginny told him, a touch of amusement in her voice.

Harry had to snort at that. One girl had gushed over his eyes, calling them shining emeralds, and just because he’d buggered her and she’d run to the Prophet with it the next day, everyone thought that was all it took? He’d fully intended to sleep with the blonde beauty when he’d saw her drooling over him across the dance floor at a particularly dull dinner (yes, in his honor). The compliment had nothing to do with it.

“I’ll admit it’s annoying, but so what?” Harry said with a shrug. “Nobody can believe everything they write is true. They manage to contradict themselves on their own made up stories three times in a week!” Harry laughed. He took a sip of his drink, and made a humming noise when he remembered, “it happened just last week!”

Ginny crossed her arms, unimpressed and not backing down. Harry sighed.

“Look, I know you’re just trying to be nice, but I’m fine!” he said, looking between the two of them.

“You’re workaholic auror with a playboy reputation that’s locked up his heart because you’re too afraid that someone might break it,” Hermione snapped.

“So that’s what this is about!” Harry exclaimed, latching onto the first part of the sentence. “You think I spend too much time at work!”

“Don’t change the subject,” Ginny told him firmly.

“I like being an auror,” Harry said, ignoring her, and feeling his defenses go up. “I’m good at it, and it helps people! Just because I work a little more than some of the others-“

“We barely see you at all!” Hermione interjected, arms thrown up into the air.

“- doesn’t mean I’m a workaholic, and even if it did that’s not necessarily a bad thing. I have to keep up-to-date on all the dark arts, and the intelligence we receive, and figure out counters and cures and preventative measures. I’ve got an important job, and it doesn’t end just because I’m no longer in my auror robes!” Harry explained. “You should know, Hermione, your husband’s an auror, too!” he added.

"Ron comes home and leaves work at work,” Hermione answered with a flash of anger.

“Well good for him then,” Harry said, voice rising, “I can’t do that. I won’t do that. I made a vow when I became an auror, and to myself, that I’d be the best auror there was, and I can’t do that if I’m not constantly improving and learning!”

“You already are the best auror!” Hermione yelled.

There was a moment of silence before Ginny came to sit next to him. Harry tried not to bristle further, or pull away as she took his hands gently in her own. He turned his eyes to meet hers when it became apparent that she was waiting for him to do so.

“You have such a big capacity to love, and you deserve to have someone to share that with,” she said sincerely, eyes searching his own. “But if you shut your heart away before you give it a chance, and don’t _try_ , then you’ll never find that person,” she said softly.

Harry glanced to Hermione, back to standing in the same position she had been, whose eyes were equal parts plea and worry. He looked back to Ginny and saw a similar look there too, and knew he was beat. With a sigh he looked into his butterbeer, accepting his fate.

“Fine, I’ll go on the bloody date,” Harry mumbled in defeat.

“Great,” Ginny smiled, triumphant. She popped up off the couch with a renewed sense of energy, and a sparkle in her eyes.

“This is just a date, though. I’m not going to fall in love with the first person you set me up with,” Harry made sure to point out.

“You mean you’ll let us set you up on more?” Ginny asked, twirling around with a wolfish grin.

“If this one goes all right,” Harry said slowly. It couldn’t hurt, having a steady flow of potential hook ups, at least.

“Exactly,” Hermione said. “That’s what we were trying to tell you. There’s no harm done if it doesn’t turn out. Think of it like a practice date!” she smiled.

Sure, Harry thought, draining his butterbeer. A practice date.

 

* * *

 

Severus downed the glass of scotch in one mouthful, the familiar burning warmth rushing down his throat. He had long since stopped taking tea when he met with Albus, and it seemed to stave off the offer of lemon drops or other such sugary things.

“Do sit down, my boy,” Albus said as he himself sat at his large wooden desk in his office.

Severus sent him a withering look at the name. He was forty-three for fucks sake. Did Albus have to call him a boy? He’d survived two wars (shockingly), and taught for twenty-two years. He was _not_ a _boy_.

Nevertheless, he sat down in the chair opposite, swinging his black robes across his lap as he did.

“If you’ve summoned me here to try to push some dull, misguided girl looking for a hero to worship, then I will have to, once again, decline your generous offer to set me up on some foolish quest for love,” Severus said in a disgusted tone.

Albus smiled at him.

“I only want you to be happy, Severus,” he said after a moment.

Severus’s eyes narrowed. His happiness had never been anything Albus had been concerned with before, and it was a childish dream that Severus himself had given up achieving long ago. Why the old man cared now made no sense. Furthermore, why Ablus thought the only way he would be happy was if he fell helplessly in love with someone (which was a laugh right there), was beyond him.

Albus, however, was determined.  Week after week, for years now, he had called him into his office, offered him tea, biscuits, and sweets, and tried to convince him to go on, of all things, a blind date. No matter how many times Severus refused, Albus would be inviting him back the next week.

He never said whom these dates would be with, but Severus could guess. There were plenty of pathetic, idiotic, girls all over Britain who were picking up Daily Prophets and seeing him within the pages. The _things_ they were saying. Severus had to repress a shudder at the memory of one headline last month that he’d seen while shopping for potion’s ingredients in Diagon Alley. In the very same trip, he’d been stopped at least five times by starry-eyed witches trying to shower him with their affections. One of them tried giving him flowers. It was all getting out of hand.

He’d been threatened with Witch Weekly’s “Most Eligible Wizard” for the _third_ year in a row.

Even his students were starting to _swoon_ during classes. He had enough trouble trying to make sure they didn’t blow themselves up before all of this nonsense. The last thing he needed was silly little girls trying to slip him – him! – a love potion. As if he wouldn’t be able to tell.

He taught them how to make the bloody stuff.

Severus debated getting up and filling his glass with another two fingers of scotch. He’d been drinking quite a bit lately. It was no wonder why.

“Why don’t you just give it a try?” Albus asked. “It might not be as bad as you think. In fact, it might surprise you.”

Severus rather doubted that.

“I’d like to think I’ve gotten to know you quite well over these many years,” Severus wondered how many years it had to be until he was no longer considered a _boy_ , “and am rather certain that the individual in question is sure to be a wonderful match,” Albus continued on in explanation. “Humour me, my boy.”

Severus glared, and then thought about the offer.

Perhaps, if he went on one disastrous date, Albus would see that it was a lost cause and give up. Severus supposed he could suffer through one evening if it meant getting Albus off his back for good. Besides, there was a high possibility that this girl, like many others he’d encountered recently (students included, unfortunately) would be all too willing to throw herself at him and it had been quite some time since he’d had the opportunity to get laid.

House responsibilities had never taken up so much time in the past, even when Harry Potter had been in the castle. Evidently, there was no limit to the reckless things students would do, and dangerous situations they would purposefully get themselves into, simply because they knew he would have to “come to their rescue,” as one swooning fifth year had claimed.

A good fuck might at least relieve some stress.

“Fine,” Severus sighed, causing a concerning twinkle to gleam in Albus’s eye.

 

* * *

 

Severus sat at a round, white-clothed table with a burning red candle in a small ornate candleholder in the center. A wine glass and a leather-bound menu marked his date’s would be seat. The seats were hard, but the wood was crafted with great detail. The room was moderately well lit, considering most restaurants that aim for that romantic atmosphere usually were anything but.

There was a piano on a small platform by a roaring fire that had been charmed to play a calm, sweet melody. The tables around his own were placed far enough away to give just the right amount of privacy to prove it an intimate occasion. A clear message of intent: anybody in this restaurant was on a date.

The waiters, surprisingly, wore suits but no formal robes. It was a trend among high-class restaurants that was fast gaining ground in the wizarding world. This establishment was no exception, which one would expect considering it looked to be somewhere that a glass of their cheapest wine would cost the average man a month’s wages.

Luckily, Albus was paying.

Which was why, as he waited for his date (who was late) he had ordered a glass of ridiculously expensive wine just to spite the old man. Severus took a sip of it, not caring how petty it was. He had plans to make the old man pay further for this, anyway.

This was not the place one brought somebody on a blind date. This was the type of place one brought somebody to _propose_. Severus just hopped the woman he was being set up with at least had enough brains to realize that would most certainly not be happening tonight. Or ever.

He found himself wondering about this woman. Who she might be. Had he met her already? How old she was. If it was a former student, he was leaving. What she looked like. He did, after all, only agree to this because he was itching for a fuck. What was her personality like. Good company was hard to find, and the average person tended to lack enough intelligence to keep his attention for more than ten minutes.

Severus’s thoughts came to an abrupt halt when he caught sight of Harry Potter walking in from the chilly February weather outside.

He watched as the Boy Who Lived Twice rubbed his hands together in an effort to warm them. He paid no attention to the excited waiters or the whispering diners as he asked the same waiter who seated Severus a question.

Harry, as Severus had started calling him a couple years ago due to the boy’s insistence, was looking particularly fetching tonight. Not that he didn’t look good every day, because he did. Since fifth year, if Severus admitted it to himself, Harry had suddenly turned into quite a beautiful man. Quidditch and auror training were much to thank for Harry’s physic, which was muscled, toned, and deliciously evident even under robes.

Severus hadn’t seen Harry in several months, since last August, actually. It seemed the young auror had grown his hair out enough for it to be able to be brushed back in a thick wave, parted on the left of his head with notably shorter sides. It suited him perfectly, making his untamable black hair look purposefully ruffled in a suggestive manner that Severus was sure witches everywhere appreciated just as much as he did. The new haircut showed off his scar, which Severus was mildly surprised at, considering Harry himself had once admitted he usually tried to hide it.

As he walked past the waiting area, Harry removed his coat to reveal a dark blue, almost black, jacket, which fit him wonderfully, a deep royal blue polo shirt that hung off him in a way that told anyone who looked that there was most definitely flat, defined abdominals and taught pecs beneath it, and trousers that matched the jacket and fit snugly in all the right places, accentuating his slim hips.

Whomever Harry was meeting was in for an envious treat.

Severus watched with interest as Harry walked his way, and glanced around discreetly to see if he could make the lucky individual who had scored a date with Harry Potter. It must have be someone rich and important. Someone who won one of those auction dates that Harry participated in for charity. Severus remembered when funds to rebuild the school had been low and Harry had agreed to auction himself off for a date to the highest bidder. They had received a staggering amount of money from a middle-aged witch in Bulgaria.

He wondered which charity this would be going to, as it most definitely had to be for such an occasion. Harry Potter did not date. At least, that was what the evidence pointed to, anyway. While Severus was under the impression Harry and the youngest Weasley were in inseparable love, the two had split apart only three months after her graduation from Hogwarts. For two years, Harry’s fascinating love life had graced the pages of various gossip magazines he confiscated during classes. Each relationship ending more disastrously than the last.

That all came to a sudden halt when Harry had, apparently, discovered one night stands and dirty nightclubs. The Boy Who Lived Twice had gotten the taste for the playboy lifestyle, and it seemed he was not going to be giving it up anytime soon. Harry never commented on the scandalous sex tales that came out about him, nor the fact he did not seem to discriminate when it came to the gender of his conquest.

Severus suddenly went stiff as the sneaking suspicion that Harry was heading to him prickled across his skin. Harry must have spotted him, and was probably coming over under the pretenses of a quick ‘hello’ in order to find out why he of all people was in a place as sickeningly romantic as this. Severus hopped whomever he was meeting was delayed several more minutes. He didn’t think his pride could take it otherwise. Even if he was able to slip in the fact that he was doing this for Albus, or rather to get Albus to leave him alone.

“Er, hi?” Harry said, eloquent as ever, as he stood in front of the table uncomfortably. His eyes shifted around, and he was visibly nervous. A bit confused. Slightly embarrassed by the faint blush colouring his cheeks. He wasn’t saying anything else, and he wasn’t moving away, or even making any indication that he intended to go anywhere else. His hand came to rest on the chair in front of him, fingers curling around it as if he planned to-

Severus felt his eyes widen in horror as the realization dawned on him.

“No.”

 

* * *

 

Harry was running late, of course.

It wasn’t actually his fault though. Ginny and Hermione were arguing about what shoes he should wear, and it made Harry regret agreeing to them coming over before the date.

Harry actually had developed a rather good sense of fashion, good enough to be voted “Best Dressed Wizard” once again this year. He was already dressed, and actually early, when he was fire-called by Ginny. Hermione was with her, and they requested to come through in order to make sure he was appropriately dressed. Harry wondered if they thought he would show up to a date in the same kinds of clothes he went clubbing in. He’d agreed to let them floo over simply to prove a point.

It was his own fault that they’d stayed. He’d asked for help choosing which watch to wear, and it had escalated quickly from there. They had gone through all his cuff links (they’d settled on the matching snitches), his belts (they’d gone with a skinny black leather one), his necklaces (they chose a simple silver chain), his bracelets (Ginny had decided his silver watch was enough, even though Hermione quite liked a wide leather band), his rings (all were decided against), his scarfs (which he had managed to convince Hermione he did not need despite the cold weather outside), and just when Harry had thought he could get rid of them and still be on time, he had made the mistake of wondering aloud which pair of shoes to put on.

Hermione thought the pair of black Chelsea boots was both practical for the time of year, and appropriate for the date setting. Ginny disagreed, thinking that a pair of lace-up leather ankle boots in a dark navy color to match his jacket and a touch of a heel to give him some added height, were the way to go. The two witches argued over the shoes for a solid fifteen minutes as Harry took the time to add additional finishing touches in the bathroom. He added some more aftershave, and several spritzes of an overly expensive cologne he’d been gifted with. He checked his reflection in the mirror, cleaned off his round rimmed glasses, and reapplied some lip balm to combat the dry winter weather that seemed to chap his lips at the mere thought of it.

When he checked his watch and saw that he would be at least five minutes late if he left _right then_ , he decided enough was enough.

“All right, all right,” he said as he came out of his on-suit, “that’s enough.”  Ginny and Hermione were glaring at each other, wands in hand. Harry rolled his eyes at them, and glanced between the two choices he had. He sat himself on the bed, and reached for the ankle boots. “I like these ones,” he said, and ignored both Ginny’s triumphant smile and Hermione’s frustrated little noise of disapproval.

“Have you got your wallet?” Ginny asked as Harry laced his boots up.

“In my pocket,” Harry replied.

“Wand?”

Harry didn’t dignify that with a response.

“Don’t forget your coat,” Hermione said when he stood.

“Hermione, I’ve not even left my bedroom yet,” Harry said, giving her a chastising look for her mothering. Hermione didn’t bother to look affronted.

“I’ve really got to go, so will you two,” Harry looked at them both, and then to the floo, “you know,” he said, gesturing with a shoo motion, “leave already?” he asked.

Both of them looked reluctant at the idea. Harry was relieved, however, that once he walked out the room, they did follow. He looked back as he grabbed his coat from the coat rack by the front door of his apartment. They both stood awkwardly watching him.

“Bye?” he tried, eyebrow raised as he popped his coat collar.

“Do you remember the address?” Ginny asked. “For the restaurant?”

“Yes,” Harry answered.

“What about how to get here? Do you need the directions again?” Hermione asked.

“I remember,” Harry drawled, seeing where this was going.

“Just remember that it’s not some person you’re picking up at a bar,” Ginny said as Harry walked towards them to usher them to the floo. “You’ve got to be a little more tactile, a little more classy,” she continued even as she started walking.

“Be polite,” Hermione added, as if Harry were a child, “and make sure you speak about appropriate topics for a date.” She turned to give him a threatening look. “No talk of work, or quidditch, or politics,” she warned.

Harry wondered what she expected him to talk about if she was black listing the only topics he knew about.

“And keep the conversation light,” Ginny added.

“Silence isn’t a bad thing,” Hermione pointed out.

“But not too much, don’t let it get awkward.”

“And be sure to ask questions about the person, but don’t shy away from answering those about yourself.”

“And don’t close off if they do ask about you.”

“Or get defensive.”

“But don’t ask too many questions, either. This is a date, not an interrogation.”

“Speaking of interrogations, did we mention not to bring up work? Don’t bring up work.”

“Yes. Okay. All right. All right,” Harry laughed, literally pushing them into the floo.

Hermione twisted back, eyes locking onto Harry’s and a soft smile coming to her face. Her hand cupped Harry’s cheek as she said, “Oh, and, Harry, don’t forget to be yourself.”

With that the floo whisked them away, concerned, nervous, hopeful looks and all.

Harry sighed as he was left alone, and nodded to himself.

It was high time he got going. He grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepped into the floo, and clearly intoned the destination.

Harry managed to stumble only slightly out of the floo when he arrived, one block away from the restaurant. The cold February weather hit him straight away, stealing his breath with a sharp wind and light snow flurries. Harry shoved his hands in his coat pockets and started walking.

The streets were moderately busy, but luckily with the snowy weather, nobody was paying much attention to who was out. Harry was able to get to the restaurant without being stopped once for an autograph.

When he arrived, he eyed the outside with suspicion. It was a rustic brick building with sleek black doors and a simple sign with the restaurant’s name written in elegant script. Hermione and Ginny had said it was a more upper-class place, but this was nothing like he’d imagined.

As the wind whipped through his coat, Harry shivered and headed towards the door.

He pushed through the door and was hit with welcome warmth. There was the soft sound of conversations that blended together to create a calm atmosphere, and a sweet melody played on a piano from somewhere in the room. The restaurant seemed to glow with warm candle light, giving off a sense of peaceful intimacy.

This was not at all what Harry had been expecting.

This was downright romantic.

Harry noted with annoyance that a part of him fluttered with warmth at it all. He squashed down those feelings, unwilling to allow his traitorous hopeless romantic characteristics to come bursting through the wall he’d constructed around his heart.

As he tried to rub some warmth back into his hands, Harry approached a man in a strictly formal suit behind a black podium.

“Hello, I’m supposed to be meeting someone here? I’m a bit late, so they’ve probably already arrived. Name should be under ‘Fawkes’ for a table of two?” Harry said to the unfazed man.

Harry wasn’t too surprised that in a place like this, the staff were more acquainted to seeing recognizable witches and wizards walk in the door. He did note a young girl who was supposed to be showing an elderly couple to a table had froze upon seeing him, blinking rapidly with her mouth slightly agape. Her training must have kicked in, however, as she managed to get herself under control and continued on with the customers she had. Harry was pleasantly surprised.

The other guests were not as polite, and as he turned to scan the restaurant, he was recognized. The whispers started, and people were pausing in their meals, forks up to their mouths, as their eyes darted to him in shock. Several people turned around in their chairs to stare at him.

Harry ignored them in favor of listening to the waiter’s directions to his table.

“Thanks,” he responded, giving the man a small smile. He started to take his coat off as he walked, eyes scanning the restaurant.

Harry spotted the table towards the back of the restaurant. It was small and round, a crisp white tablecloth laid over top and a candle in the middle. Someone was sat at the table already, sitting in the seat Harry would most likely have chosen for himself if he had gotten there early enough, one that looked out to the rest of the restaurant. A perfect place to keep an eye on things.

It was with a jolt of shock that Harry recognized the man sitting at the table.

Severus Snape sat eyeing him over a glass of red wine. It was the closest Harry ever thought he would see the man get to Gryffindor colors. Severus looked the same as he did when Harry had first met him, except his hair had grown to shoulder length over the years, and had, to Harry’s amusement, gotten layers, adding volume and a nice texture to it.

He was wearing his robes, of course. It left everything to the imagination because Harry couldn’t see a damn thing other than folds of black fabric hanging loosely around him. Harry felt naked in comparison. 

Snape had yet to take his eyes off him, and Harry figured, if the cautious calculating look in his dark eyes was anything to go by, Snape had yet to understand what was happening. If he did, he surely would be up and out the door. This was, after all, a blind date for them both. Ginny and Hermione had told him that in an attempt to assure Harry the other person was just as nervous as he was.

When Harry made it to the table, he wasn’t sure what to do. Snape still hadn’t done anything, and Harry took it to mean he was waiting for Harry to say something first. The man’s eyes narrowed at him as the silence stretched on.

“Er, hi?” Harry said lamely. He shifted uncomfortably in the silence that followed it, and when Snape still didn’t react, he decided to just sit down as they were bound to be being watched and he didn’t want to draw any more attention.

It seemed, as he went to pull the chair out that Snape finally clocked on. The older wizard’s eyes widened in complete shock.

“No,” he said.

Harry blinked.

No? What did that mean? No, Harry couldn’t sit down? No, Harry wasn’t his date? No, Harry wasn’t actually there? No, what?

“Um, pardon me?” Harry asked, a little meekly as he did sit down.

“This is some ridiculous joke you and the headmaster have planned, and I want no part of it,” Snape stated angrily. Harry wondered if he’d get up and storm out. It was a dramatic enough exit that he’d do it, too.

“I was under the impression that this was a blind date set up by Hermione and Ginny,” Harry managed to explain rather calmly.

“Did you know?” Snape asked, ignoring him. At Harry’s apparent confusion, he clarified, “Did you know you were meeting me?”

The tone he asked it in told Harry to tread very carefully. It was a bit like facing off with a snake, except this one Harry couldn’t just order about. This one was far more dangerous than a snake. For a moment, Harry wondered how Snape would feel about that thought. Was it a compliment or an insult? Snape was a Slytherin, Head of Slytherin at that, and he did always seem to like having the ability to intimidate others. Though, at the same time he had almost died because of a snake and was sure to have many unpleasant memories that involved snakes. So, Harry wasn’t sure. He supposed it could be taken either way. From the look on Snape’s face though, Harry also supposed he should answer the man before he ended up with fangs in _his_ neck.

“No,” he replied. Honesty was the best policy, right? “I was completely blind to who my date would be, and I’m assuming that you were too?”

“Yes.”

It didn’t take a brilliant Legilimens to know that Snape was uncomfortable. Before the man could bolt, Harry tried to save the situation.

“Look, I know you probably aren’t too happy with this,” Snape raised a single eyebrow at this statement, “but it doesn’t mean the evening has to go to waste,” Harry told him. He gestured to the nice table and the wine in Snape’s hand. “It’s all being paid for, right?” Snape nodded, going back to that cautious and calculated look of his. “Then why don’t we just enjoy our evening as two friends having dinner together?”

“This is hardly the place where two friends have dinner together,” Snape drawled, and Harry chose not to comment on the fact that the man had no instantly argued against Harry calling them friends.

“Well, now it is,” Harry said instead.

“It is not,” Snape challenged, and Harry wondered if it would actually kill Snape to agree with him for once. “We might as well just leave now and go home,” Snape said.

“Why?” Harry asked in confusion. Was spending one dinner with him so bad? Sure, it was a rather intimate and romantic place, but that didn’t mean they had to treat the evening like that. It didn’t have to be a date. Harry blinked. “It doesn’t have to be a date. Just stay for a little while.”

Snape regarded him silently, and Harry found himself holding his breath as he waited for a reply.

“Fine,” Snape said. He brought his wine glass to his lips, and muttered, “It’d be a shame to waste the wine anyway,” before downing the rest of it.

“Great.”

Harry picked up his menu and scanned through it. Just as he was reading about their favored lamb dish, he heard Snape scoff at him quietly. He glanced up in question.

“Is there a problem?”

“We’re on a date,” Snape said as if that explained it all.

“We’re not on a date!” Harry replied quickly, voice going up an octave. Why did Snape continue to insist this was a date? Harry had said it didn’t have to be a date! Yet Snape kept saying it over and over. Harry frowned, his brow crinkling. He couldn’t read Snape’s face, but something flickered across it for a moment. It made Harry’s frown deepen before he had an idea. Unsure, Harry cleared his throat, and voiced a light and cautious, “Unless you want it to be?”

There was a beat of silence, which was excruciatingly awkward and anxiety inducing, and then, right when Harry was about to surely die from embarrassment, Snape scoffed again. Harry felt himself prickle at it.

“ _What_?” he asked the older man, feeling that familiar flare of anger Harry had often felt around Snape during his years at Hogwarts.

“I do not date, Potter,” Snape replied.

“Ever?” Harry couldn’t help but ask in astonishment. He thought with all the attention Snape was getting, men and women, he would have thought Snape would at least go out a couple times with someone who intrigued him. If he never went on dates, maybe Snape worried that he wouldn’t be any good on them and thought it was too late to start? “If your nervous about your first-“ Harry started but Snape cut him off with a sharp look and a sneer.

“I’ve been on dates before,” he replied venomously, the ‘you idiot’ was left off but just barely. Harry found him once again reminded of the snake analogy.

“Then why did you say you-“

“Dates are simply the social etiquette required to be displayed before two people can bed each other without causing a scandal,” Snape interrupted him again. He eyed Harry before adding, “I’d have thought you of all people would be familiar with the concept.”

“I don’t take them on a date first,” Harry said in confusion, completely unable to think about the fact he was talking about dating and one night stands with Snape.

Snape raised an eyebrow at him. “My, my, and to think the Golden Boy can’t even be bothered to show a modicum of gentlemen behavior before he does a Fuck-N-Run,” Snape said in a cool voice full of amusement.

“Fuck-N-Run?!” Harry repeated in disbelief. He couldn’t believe they were talking about this. That he was talking about this with Snape. That Snape had just said ‘fuck’ and said it so casually. That Snape had just called a one-night stand a ‘Fuck-N-Run’ of all things.

Snape leaned in, black eyes hard.

“Keep your voice down,” he hissed.

Harry glanced around and saw several people were watching them in surprise. He supposed he did say that a bit loud. He was caught off guard, though. He couldn’t help it.

“Is that what you do, then?” Harry batted back after composing himself a bit.

Raising an eyebrow, Snape replied, “How is that any of your concern?”

“I’d like to know if that’s what you plan to do to me,” Harry asked conversationally, giving as good as he got. He thought he saw a slight twitch of Snape’s lip at that, but he wasn’t sure. He watched, keeping still and standing his ground as Snape’s eyes quickly ran over him.

“Is that an offer?” Snape asked in a bored voice.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Harry pointed out.

Before Snape could reply, a waiter came for their order. Harry suddenly realized he hadn’t actually chosen yet, but remembered reading about the lamb before he and Snape started talking. He ordered the lamb and Snape ordered the duck, acting as though it were nothing out of the ordinary that they were on a not date blind date, and that they hadn’t just had that conversation.

Not wanting a strained silence to fall between them for the rest of the night, Harry tried to get them back on track for that evening-dinner-between-two-friends thing they had both agreed to. Or did they? He thought they did?

“How are classes?” he asked as a waiter poured him some wine. He looked up from the now full glass of wine to see Snape arching a brow at him yet again. He sighed. “This would be a lot easier if you’d just play along.”

“The only reason I play along on dates is because the payoff is usually some half-way decent sex,” the man replied. “As I’m not getting that, I don’t see why I should play along at all.”

“Was that what tonight was going to be to you no matter who sat down at this table?” Harry asked.

“Yes.”

Harry was mildly surprised at the honesty. “Why not just get a girlfriend?” Harry asked, and snorted into his glass at the look of horror that came over Snape’s face at the suggestion. “Not a romantic I take it?”

“What about me, Mister Potter, makes you think I’d be a romantic?” Snape asked, looking at Harry in a chiding way.

“It’d be easier than having to woo your date every time you want to get laid,” Harry quipped back. “It’s Harry, by the way,” he added, not willing to ignore the use of his last name. They were on a date after all, Snape could at least use his first name. Or rather, they weren’t on a date, but it was like a date, but not, but-

This was getting confusing.

“Much like yourself, _Harry_ , I’m more of the Fuck-N-Run type as well,” Snape said. Snape’s eyes narrowed. “Now, will you answer my question, or will you be avoiding that one as well?”

“You seem to be forgetting those memories you gave me. I know exactly how romantic you secretly are, _Severus_ , and so does the rest of the world ever since your trial,” Harry said, enjoying the almost slip of emotion on Snape’s face at the use of his given name. He’d not actually given Harry permission to use it, but Harry figured considering their setting, he would use it anyway. “I’m surprised you’ve not got people throwing themselves at you for a shag. No polite society demanding date required,” he continued. “Now that you’re a hero and all that.”

“I’m not a hero,” Snape said in disgust. “And unlike you I don’t fuck anybody who compliments my eyes,” he replied with a toothy grin.

“That is not what happened!” Harry said in annoyance. He narrowed his eyes at Snape in realization. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d be the type to read gossip magazines,” he said suspiciously.

“Confiscated from a third year during class,” Snape replied easily. “You were the cover story.”

“Noticed that, did you? It seems it’s either you or me that makes it on there weekly. Mad that I took your spot, are you? Hoping to see yourself on there with another riveting piece on your heroism and bad-boy attitude?” Harry asked innocently.

“Don’t remind me,” Snape said, lip curling at the thought. “They’re pathetic. Don’t they have anything better to publish?”

“We sell best.”

“That’s even more disturbing.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Harry said. At Snape’s look of disbelief, he smiled and shook his head. “I mean eventually you’ll learn to stop caring. It’s hard sometimes, and there will be times that something gets to you, but you have to let it go.”

“And does it get to you often?”

“No, but then again I’ve had years of practice,” Harry replied. “I’ve been dealing with this since I’ve been eleven,” he shrugged. “There’s not much they can do anymore to get to me.

“I don’t like it,” Snape admitted with a frown.

“Neither do I,” Harry also admitted.

When their food arrived, they ate in silence for a while before Harry broke it once again.

“So how _are_ classes going?”

“Students seem to be more stupid than ever and they seem to think by nearly killing themselves they’ll somehow endear themselves to me,” Snape replied.

“That sounds… less than ideal.

“This whole idealization of me is irritating,” Snape said. “It’s caused problem after problem, and now it’s endangering the lives of my students. I want it over with.”

“Good luck with that,” Harry laughed and they continued to eat in peace again.

Snape looked uncomfortable for moment. Harry kept eating. He figured if Snape had anything to say to him, he could be the first one to talk. Harry just enjoyed his lamb.

“How do you do it?” Snape finally asked after a while. It sounded like it might have pained him a bit to have to ask, but he was looking at Harry a bit desperately.

“Pardon?” Harry asked in confusion.

“How do you deal with it,” Snape asked again, gritting his teeth. “With,” he searched for the words, and Harry waited patiently, “with all of it,” he said. His shoulders slumped a bit, just a fraction really, but it spoke loads to anyone who’d been around him long enough.

“I just ignore it,” Harry said simply. He watched Snape for a while. He took in the dark eyes, the bags under them, the tension running across Snape’s body, the way everything, even his skin, seemed to say _tired_ , and _done_ , and guessed. “You’re stressed,” he stated. Snape laughed bitterly.

“Your genius astounds me,” the man drawled.

“No,” Harry shook his head, “you don’t get it. Your problem isn’t the attention. Your problem is dealing with the stress that attention causes.” Snape looked back blankly at him. Harry shifted in his seat, leaning closer. “You need a way to relieve the stress. In Hogwarts, I used Quidditch. Now I use my work.”

“And when your work is the cause of your stress?”

“I let loose by going out.”

“Which in turn causes more stress from the scandalous sex tales that come about thereafter.”

“No, I don’t care about them. Sex is actually a really good stress reliever,” Harry said with a shrug. “Maybe you should try that.”

“What do you think I was trying to do tonight?” Snape asked, eyebrow raised.

“Wow, you weren’t even going to try to give this a chance?” Harry laughed. “What if I’d been some fantastic man or woman that you’d be great with? You wouldn’t even try?”

That receive two raised eyebrows.

“Don’t try to act like you’re any better,” Snape replied. “You’re just here to no doubt get Granger and Weasley to leave you alone,” Snape said, and it was annoying how he managed to actually get it right.

“They’re both Weasley, actually,” Harry pointed out. “For the record, I would have gave the person a chance, if I thought they were worth it.” Harry felt a flare of anger at the look Snape gave him at that. “I would have! In fact, I’d have given you a chance if you’d asked for it!”

“How touching,” Snape replied.

“It’s no wonder you’ve not got a girlfriend,” Harry muttered.

“Everyone seems rather insistent that I have one of those,” Snape said, “It’s rather annoying.”

“Why not give it a shot then?”

“I’ve yet to meet anyone who interests me for more than a few minutes,” Snape said honestly, and Harry wondered if the wine was getting to him. He was on his third glass. “Everyone is so boring.”

“You seem not to be too bored with me this evening,” Harry said and he actually didn’t mean to say that so maybe he should stop drinking the wine as well? He was only on the one glass, so he wasn’t sure why he said that. Impulse control was never his strong suit, but that was a bit-

Snape’s laugh cut his train of thought right off. “Are you saying you’d like to be considered?” Snape asked. This conversation was heading in a vastly different direction than it had been intended to go.

“As your girlfriend?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“I’d have thought ‘boyfriend’ would do, but if that’s what you’d want to be called…” he trailed off with a smirk. He swirled his wine in his glass, looking down at the red waves. “But I must admit, the idea of you in a dress and stockings is rather intriguing,” he added before drinking the wine.

Harry sputtered. Snape smirked further.

“I think you’ve had enough,” Harry said and made to take Snape’s glass away. Snape let him take the empty thing from him, and sat back in his chair in amusement.

“I’m not drunk,” he said.

“Sure you’re not.”

“I thought you were the one who wanted us to play pretend?”

“Oh, do you get drunk on all your dates? Is that the secret to wooing them all? Get drunk then take them back to your place for a Fuck-N-Run.”

“I don’t take anyone back to my place,” Snape replied. “Doesn’t make it easy to do the ‘run’ bit if they’re the one who needs to leave.”

Harry laughed. “Right. Of course.” Harry looked at his plate and Snape’s, and concluded that they had both finished. “Let’s get you home,” he said before drinking the last few mouthfuls of his wine.

Snape seemed to sober shockingly fast.

“You seem to be under the delusion that I’m both drunk and in need of your assistance,” his former professor said. “I assure you I am neither.”

Harry sighed at the hostile tone of Snape’s voice. They’d been having a nice time, for a second there at least. Not the type of conversation he’d imagined ever having with Snape, but nice all the same. The look in Snape’s eyes now, however, told Harry he was one wrong word away from causing a fight and he really did not want to deal with that.

He was already on a date. A real date. In public. With Snape. In this type of restaurant. People had been watching them all night. There was bound to be gossip about it tomorrow if not an article the day after that. The last thing he needed was Snape causing a scene.

“Can we not do this here?” he asked. “Let’s just go.”

Snape didn’t say anything. He simply got up and started walking to the door.

Harry sighed, and followed. Did the man have to be so bloody dramatic about everything?

 

* * *

 

Severus let the cold February air hit him as he was deposited outside of the restaurant, the click of the doors sounding softly behind him. It was still snowing, and the streets were emptying at the late hour. With a mumbled spell, his body heated and he carried on down the street.

In the fresh snowfall, his footprints were covered up easily. He focused on that, and the crisp air instead of what had happened inside. He wasn’t ready to think about it, to fully process what had just occurred. Not until he had a canter of scotch and his comfortable dressing gown on.

Regardless of these plans, and his needs, his mind thought about it anyway. He’d agreed to go on a blind date, and his date had turned out to be Harry Potter. Despite what Harry had tried to convince them both, what they had just sat through was a date.

A good date at that.

Severus hadn’t expected it, and he was thrown off by it all. He berated himself for allowing the night to continue past Harry’s greeting, and especially for the _flirting_ that had started towards the end of it. What was he thinking? All he wanted to do now was to get home, but of course, Harry bloody Potter wouldn’t let that happen.

“Severus!” Harry called, running to catch up.

Severus closed his eyes at Harry saying his name. That bloody Gryffindor and his insistence to break all rules, even social. He was foolish, reckless idiot who was going to give Severus more trouble, or at the least a headache. Again, Severus found himself asking what he was thinking.

Harry caught up and he turned to face him. As he slowed down from his run, he put the coat he had clearly grabbed on his way out the door on, the movement causing him to stretch slightly and his shirt to go taunt on one side, revealing the lovely sculpted body that was hinted at by the clothing. His cheeks were slightly rosy with the wind and exertion of running in the opposite direction it was blowing. His hair was ruffled by it as well, and his eyes were shinning a vivid green.

Yes. Well. It seemed Severus had his answer. He was thinking that Harry Potter was a little bit gorgeous, and it wasn’t so hard to see why anyone would lose themselves in a date with him.

“Why’d you leave like that?” Harry asked.

“I’m going home,” Severus replied.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off as a lightbulb went off in a flash. He blinked in rapid succession, and they both turned to see Rita Skeeter appear from nowhere with a quill and parchment in the air and a lackey by her side with the camera. She had a thin-lipped grin on her face, with a smudge of red lipstick on her front teeth, which spoke of headlines and nefarious plans.

“Severus Snape and Harry Potter out and about, eh?” the cockroach asked with a gleam in her eye. “Whatever shall we think of it?” She looked between them both, and the camera went off again.

“How’d you know where to find us?” Harry asked, looking irritated and confused. The camera went off again, this time aimed at just him.

“I’ve got my sources,” Skeeter said in a tone that told them all that she wasn’t saying anything else on the matter. “Word is that you two were just at that little restaurant with the fancy food, intimate spaces, and romantic atmosphere,” she said, gleefully teasing.

“No comment,” Harry said.

Severus glanced at him, unsure how to feel about that or any of this. He’d managed to avoid anything like this so far.

“Looks like your boyfriend here’s a bit hurt by that,” Skeeter said, the quill writing away and the camera going off in Severus’s face. “Care to comment,” she said, question for either of them.

“We’re not together!” Harry sputtered.

“Just two heroes out on a romantic stroll through the glittering snow after an intimate dinner on valentine’s day?”

“It’s not valentine’s day!” Harry said incredulously.

Skeeter didn’t reply. The quill, however, kept writing.

“Does this mean you’re done with your playboy days, Harry?” Skeeter asked after a beat.

“I’m not-“

“Throwing away the strings of girls, and boys, who you’ve left broken hearted after single nights of fevered passion, all because you’ve found love with your Death Eater turned Hero, Order of Merlin First Class, former Professor Severus Snape?” Skeeter said in one breath, cutting Harry off as the quill scratched away furiously, stopping on the last syllabus of Skeeter’s spun story.

“You forgot renown Potions Master,” Harry muttered sarcastically. Skeeter’s eyes narrowed and the quill seemed to look at Harry as well before it jotted that down too. Harry’s jaw locked, and his hands fisted his robes.

“I think it best for you to leave,” Severus said calmly.

Skeeter looked at him in amusement.

“Leave?” she repeated as if the idea were ludicrous. “I’m just getting started.”

With narrowed eyes of his own, Severus simply replied, “I think not,” in a firm, quiet voice.

Skeeter looked back at him without a drop of hesitation, and turned back to Harry. “How does it feel being in love? Afraid it’ll end like your last relationship? Splashed out on the pages of every newspaper and magazine for everyone to see you were simply being used for their fifteen minutes of fame, never really loved, just used and manipulated as you’ve always been, nobody to truly care for you, only ever wanted for your body and money, never truly wanted for-“

“That,” Severus said, stepping forward and lowering his voice in a threatening tone, “is quite enough.”

Skeeter paused, and Severus kept his hard gaze on her even as she kept her eyes on Harry. The flash of a camera went off, and Severus snapped.

His wand was in his hand before Skeeter could blink. “Flipendo,” he said quietly, casting the jinx and following it up with, “Furnunculus,” as Skeeter fell to the ground. The lackey froze, and Severus just raised an eyebrow at him. The man disapparated on the spot. To Skeeter, Severus looked down and whispered, “if you come near either me or Mister Potter again, I’ll do a lot more than that.

It was the tamest threat he’d made yet Skeeter whimpered.

With nothing else to say, Severus continued walking down the street, leaving Harry staring open mouthed at Skeeter on the ground, boils covering her face.

He had almost made it a good ten feet before Harry caught up with him again. The young auror jogged up to his side, clearly trying to say something but unable to put it into words. Severus held back from commenting on his lack of eloquence, but just barely.

“Thanks,” Harry said eventually.

“It took you that long to come up with that?” Severus asked, and damn he’d been doing so well _not_ commenting on Harry’s utter lack of control over the English language. 

“I’d like to say more, but it all really just leads back to that,” Harry said.

Severus hadn’t stopped walking, and he was aware that being taller than Harry gave him the advantage of long strides, but he didn’t slow down to accommodate for the short Boy Who Lived Twice.

“That was your first time dealing with it head on, wasn’t it?”

“Obvious am I?” Severus couldn’t help drawl back.

“You can’t really go around jinxing every reporter,” Harry laughed, and Severus stopped himself from saying ‘watch me’ and kept his mouth shut. “Especially Skeeter,” Harry continued. “She’ll write up a completely false story just to spite you for it now.”

“I thought I was supposed to ignore it,” Severus said. Before Harry could answer, he continued with, “She should have stopped when I told her. She had no right assuming those things.”

“Well she was kind of right,” Harry said tilting his head in thought.

Severus looked at him sharply. In what way, exactly, was Skeeter right? Despite their little conversation, they were most certainly not dating, and as Harry had insisted that was not a date that they had just been on. Or were on?

“I’m a bit curious as to what she’ll write up now,” Harry admitted.

“And here I thought you’d put your arrogant, self-centered ways behind you,” Severus replied. Harry chuckled. “It’ll probably be something about you declaring your undying love for me,” he said, thinking aloud.

“Probably,” Harry agreed.

“You don’t seem too upset,” Severus pointed out lightly.

“As you said,” Harry replied, “you’re supposed to ignore what they write.” They turned the corner, the floos were in sight at the far end of the street. “Besides, I have always fancied you a bit since fifth year,” Harry added nonchalantly.

Severus’s brain went blank for a second, and he barely managed to keep walking. He felt himself tense and couldn’t even wonder if Harry had noticed because he himself wasn’t capable of thought at the moment because _what the bloody fuck did he just say?_

“Severus?” Harry called and when Severus blinked, he saw that they were standing in front of the floos.

Oh.

“Perhaps you shouldn’t floo right now?” Harry said worriedly. Severus didn’t say anything. “Why don’t we walk around a bit longer?” Harry suggested. “There’s a nice little lake a couple streets over with a bridge across it.”

Severus nodded.

They walked back out onto the main street in silence. Severus wasn’t sure how to react. He suddenly felt very self-conscious and was overly aware of everything around him. He heard the crunch of the snow beneath their feet, the muffled music from inside a store, the soft sounds of life behind the doors of another restaurant they pass. It was all sharp and focused and a bit overwhelming.

Harry, of course, was oblivious to what he’d done.

“This wasn’t so bad as far as blind dates go,” Harry said and that was not the right thing for him to say, but maybe it was because finally Severus found words.

“I thought it wasn’t a date,” he replied.

“I said it could be if you wanted,” Harry countered.

A couple seconds of silence went by, and before Harry could ask, Severus said, “I suppose it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, no.”

“Did you, er, did you ever fancy me?” Harry asked. “Before? Like I did? Not that I’m saying you do now, although I was rather under the impression that you might from what-“

“Yes,” Severus cut the babbling off.

“Oh,” Harry replied. “Good.”

Severus didn’t respond.

“Did you ever fancy me as a student?” Harry asked nervously.

_Yes_ , Severus thought. Aloud he said, “Perhaps,” and left it at that.

“Oh,” Harry said. Then, “Why didn’t you ever do anything about it?”

“You were my student,” Severus answered, looking at Harry to see how he could possibly _not_ understand that.

“So?"

Severus glared at him.

He couldn’t be serious. How could he not understand? Harry was in fifth year. He was his student. He was Harry bloody Potter. He was a reckless, troublesome, impulsive, beautiful Gryffindor. Nothing would have happened. Nothing _could_ have happened.

“We should have done this ages ago,” Harry said, letting it go.

“Do what?”

“Go out on a date.”

“Oh, so finally admitting it, are we?”

“I didn’t mind admitting it! I told you that it could be that if you wanted! You’re the one who didn’t say anything!” Harry huffed.

“Like I said, I don’t date.”

“Fuck-N-Run,” Harry said.

Severus found himself smiling at Harry’s tone. “Although, I must agree. We should have done this sooner.”

It was as close to romantic as he was going to let himself get.

They had made it to the lake. Severus looked out at it, and had to admit it was rather beautiful. The frozen lake had a thin covering of snow on it, and it sparkled in the moonlight. The bridge was wrought iron, and the railing was intricately detailed with loops and crosses. A sliver of moonlight shone across the lake. There were several lamp posts scattered throughout the small park giving just enough of light to the rest of the park.

 

* * *

 

 

They walked onto the bridge and stopped half way. Snape didn’t seem to be in the mood to say anything more, but Harry itched to talk. They’d just admitted to fancying each other eight years ago, and possibly for that duration. They had things to discuss.

Like if they could do this again. Next Friday. Or sooner.

Harry leaned against the railing, sighing as he tried to think of something to say. He was aware of Snape standing rather rigidly next to him, and he felt a pang of regret for having caused Snape’s relaxed state to vanish in the restaurant. It had been so nice. Snape was so different when he relaxed. Well, not different, not really. He was still his sarcastic, venomous, brilliant self. There was just something, a small change that made a big difference, which made him _feel_ different that Harry had sensed.

Harry collided with the floor of the bridge with a heavy thud, gasping at the impact and cold.

“Expelliarmus,” Snape’s deep voice said. Harry turned quickly, pushing to a sitting position as Snape then said, “Orbis,” in a quiet and deadly voice.

With wide eyes, Harry saw a man with a scruffy beard and a crumpled robe get sucked into the ground. He yelled in anger, wiggling the top part of his body as he tried to get out. Snape’s narrowed gaze watched every movement as he held his wand ready.

About to thank the man for yet again saving his life, Harry opened his mouth a moment before he spotted another wizard appear at the end of the bridge. He whipped his wand out, causing Snape’s eyes to snap to him, and yelled out, “Expelliarmus!”

The wizard blocked this disarming spell easily, and Harry jumped up as he did so. Snape turned to face the wizard, wand up and eyes glittering with recognition. It was a reminder to Harry that they had yet to round up all the Death Eaters, and that Snape was in danger every day as a result.

“Locomotor Mortis,” the Death Eater said, the leg-locking curse aimed at Snape.

Harry jumped in front of him shielded them both with a flick of his wand. “Ebublio,” Harry cast, but the Death Eater managed to dodge out of the way before being encased in a bubble. “Petrificus Totalus!” Harry tried again.

“Confringo!” the Death Eater said as he spun away from the spell. Harry and Snape jumped back as the bright teal light hurtled towards them. It hit a tree at the opposite end of the park and exploded it into smithereens.

Panting, Harry looked over to check if Snape was okay. The man was pushing himself to a stand, his wand already up.

“Crucio!” the Death Eater yelled before Snape was able to say a thing.

Harry ran, shoving himself into Snape and tackling him to the ground as the red light missed them both narrowly.

“Potter!” Snape yelled indignantly.

“Expulso!” the Death Eater yelled again, walking towards them.

Harry ignored Snape, pushing up to a kneeling position and blocking the older wizard from view. He blocked the burst of blue light from hitting either of them, and raised his wand. “Locomotor Wibbly,” Harry said, and the man wasn’t fast enough to block the curse. He fell to the ground with a yell as his legs gave out.

Harry threw another jinx at him, but the Death Eater seemed to have better reflexes than most of his friends, as he rolled away and back up on his feet.

The Tempest jinx was flying at Harry before he could get away, but Snape suddenly yanked him back down. The lightning strikes hit another tree, and a fire burst to life in the park. Harry looked down at Snape, and smiled before the older man pushed him off and they both stood.

Before Snape could cast anything back, Harry hit the Death Eater with a stinging jinx. As the man yelped in pain, Harry pushed himself off Snape and back onto his feet. Instantly, he was dueling with the Death Eater, curses and jinxes flying back and forth.

When Harry narrowly missed the sickly green light of the killing curse, Snape tried to jump into the fight with a spell Harry hadn’t heard before. It was ridiculous that Snape still knew so much more than Harry when it was Harry’s job to know these things, but then again Harry wouldn’t be surprised to learn that it was one of Snape’s own inventions.

The Death Eater sent a curse back at Snape, but Harry interfered, earning a murderous glare from his former professor. Harry didn’t have time to event send him an apologetic glance as the Death Eater turned his attention back to him.

“Crucio!” the Death Eater called out again, but their dueling had taken it’s toll on him and he wobbled forward as he cast it, causing the curse to miss Harry by several feet.

It almost hit Snape, as the man once again tried to join the fight. Enough was enough, Harry decided. He wouldn’t let Snape get hurt. He was the auror here, and it was high time he showed them all why he was, as Hermione pointed out, the best the Ministry had.

“Petrificus Totalus,” Harry said with a hint of apology, aiming it at Snape. The man looked back in complete surprise. Harry guessed the only reason he didn’t block it was that he clearly was not expecting it, and there was a look of betrayal on his face right before he went rigid. “Stupefy!” Harry yelled at the Death Eater walking towards them both, forcing himself back into the fight and his guilt away.

The Death Eater blocked it easily, continuing his advance. He threw several wordless spells at Harry, but Harry blocked every one of them. They were fast locked back into their duel, lunging and spinning as deadly spells were flung at each other. Harry was relentless, casting nonverbal and verbal spells one after the other as he blocked those that came at him.

As just a couple minutes went by, Harry noted the Death Eater was tiring out, and he leapt on his chance. He increased the speed of his attacks as he fired off spell after spell. The Death Eater stumbled back, but managed to steady himself on a tree. He threw another Cruciatus Curse at Harry, but Harry was able to duck it and yell back, “Sectumsempra,” as he did.

Still frozen, Snape couldn’t react, but Harry found himself glancing at the man all the same. He wondered how he felt at hearing Harry use his curse. This error cost Harry, as suddenly he was found himself hit with a spell that knocked the breath out of him and sent him flying over the bridge.

The ice on the lake cracked with a harsh sound, and Harry had a split second to gasp at the impact and the sting across his arm and hands before he was plummeted into the icy water below. The cold rushed across his body, soaking into his very bones and he swam up to the surface urgently.

He managed to gasp for air before seeing a red light coming at him in his peripheral vision. He ducked back under the water, pushing his hands against the ice underneath to force himself deep down into the lake.

The ice above cracked once more and then the water above rippled violently as an explosion shook the water. Harry started to swim, trying to get away and keep hold of his wand as the cold started to freeze him. His fingers were feeling numb and he was running out of air, but the Death Eater kept throwing curse after curse after him.

Harry could hear muffled cries of various blasting and exploding curses. He looked up just in time to see the ice take the green light of the killing curse, blasting it apart. Harry started to swim back the other way, desperately needing air now and unable to cast anything when his fingers were so cold he wasn’t sure he couldn’t feel them around his wand.

As he broke the surface he gasped, and the cold weather hit his wet, freezing body. He pushed himself out of the water quickly as another curse came hurtling towards him. He rolled across the ice, thankful that it didn’t crack again under him and plunge him back in the water below.

Harry cast a nonverbal heating charm on his fingers as the Death Eater made his way across the bridge for better aim at Harry. Feeling was coming back into his fingers, but it wasn’t quick enough for Harry to block the pale light that left the Death Eater’s wand. Harry rolled away again just as the spell hit him in the side. It sliced through, warm blood dripping oozing out in large droplets before starting to gush properly. The water still on Harry’s body helped the blood spread across his body and soak into his clothes, dripping down onto the white snow and clear ice.

“Impedimenta!” Harry yelled, gritting his teeth against the pain and getting up.

The Death Eater was caught by the jinx, and was raising his arm in slow motion, his eyes just starting to widen in recognition of the spell that came at him.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry yelled then, wasting no time. The Death Eater’s wand went flying. “Incarcerous!” Harry yelled again as he walked over.

Tied up tight in a thick rope on the bridge, the Death Eater struggled to free himself to no avail. The impediment jinx had worn off, but with no wand to untie himself and no hands free, he wasn’t going anywhere.

It seemed that Snape had regained the ability to move, and was no standing up. He looked over to where Harry stood by the Death Eater, a mix of emotions on his face before he hid them all behind a blank mask. Harry tried not to bristle at the fact that Snape felt he still needed to hide around him.

Harry looked at the other wizard, still in the ground who was now shouting. “Melofors,” he said quietly, wand pointed lazily at him, and the man’s head was incased in a pumpkin.

“Really, Potter?” Snape said disapprovingly.

Harry shrugged, and then gasped in pain as the movement reminded him of the slice on his side. He hissed in pain as he lifted his arm to see the blood stained jacket quickly darkening as more warm blood seeped into it. His jacket and shirt was ruined, and it would be a miracle if the entire outfit wasn’t done for.

“Let me see,” Snape said suddenly right in front of him.

Harry looked up and Snape’s dark eyes met his own. He didn’t look angry. Well, okay he did, but not the type of angry that was aimed at Harry. Which made no sense. His eyes gave away his concern though, and that made Harry laugh, which in turn caused the concern to flee and the eyes to narrow.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said shaking his head. “It’s just that I thought I’d be fighting you next considering what I did,” he explained.

“Yes, well we can deal with your utter lack of self-preservation another time,” Snape said, looking at Harry so that he knew that time would definitely come, just not now. “Right now you’re hurt and you need medical attention.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’m fine,” Harry shook his head.

His coat had a growing dark patch of blood, and the wound was clearly not going to stop bleeding any time soon as the blood dripped down from underneath his coat and onto the bridge. He had left a dripping trail of blood all the way over, which was mixed in with the water that was also dripping off him. He was shivering from the plunge he took into the lake and the weather outside that blew an unforgiving wind. He was panting and wheezing, and he could barely keep his eyes open, which Severus wasn’t sure was due to the exertion of what just happened or the amount of blood he was losing.

“You are not fine, Harry,” he said. An array of healing charms and potions were listing themselves in his head, and he made up his mind in a matter of seconds. “I’m taking you back to Hogwarts.”

“Poppy has enough to worry about without me being there,” Harry tried to laugh but ended up grimacing in pain. “Besides, I’m no longer a student,” he added.

“I had no such plans to take you to Poppy,” Severus replied. “Who do you think brews all the potions she would be giving you anyway?” he asked with an eyebrow raised.

“You mean…”

“We’ll be apparating directly into my quarters.”

“But-“

Severus glared at him.

“I’m-“

“If you try to tell me that you’re fine again I’ll add another jinx to the pile you’ve already been hit with tonight,” Severus threatened.

“St.Mungo’s then!” Harry said and Severus wondered why Harry was so against going to his quarters. “They treat me all the time, and once the other aurors arrive to take these two they’ll order me there anyway,” Harry said. At Severus’s unchanging look, he added, “They’re sure to have the same potions as you,” as if that would help his case.

Severus snorted at the statement in disgust.

“I’m offended that you would think their potions to be remotely as good as mine. They buy them in stock from some supplier in Ireland,” he explained. “They are not nearly as good as mine, and you won’t be having them. I also don’t know where this idea that I’d be allowing you to wait around here while you either freeze to death or bleed out just for some bloody aurors to show up to take these pathetic excuses of wizards away, came from.”

As Harry clearly tried to think of a reply to that, Severus glanced around to see a crowd had started to form now that the fight had ended. Witches and Wizards were whispering, some with their wands out in case, others far too caught up in all the drama to think about any further danger.

Annoyed, Severus grabbed Harry’s hand and disapparated them before someone could take a picture.

With a crack, they appeared in Severus’s living room. Severus was aware of the fact that nobody other than Albus has seen his quarters, and having Harry there should have felt like an infringement of his privacy, but he didn’t feel that way at all as Harry practically collapsed in his arms.

“Easy there, Potter,” he said quietly, arms wrapped around the injured auror.

“’S Harry,” was the mumbled reply as green eyes fluttered closed.

Severus picked him up in his arms, bridal style, and laid him on his black couch. He’d deal with the blood stains later. Harry whimpered in pain and turned his head with a wrinkle of his brow. Sighing, Severus looked down and raised his wand over him.

He banished all of Harry’s clothes on his top half, leaving him completely dressed below the waist. The blood soaked clothing was in a pile on the floor, sopping wet and smelling of iron. Harry shivered and Severus wished he could cast a heating charm to warm him up, but didn’t want to cause the blood to start gushing as it seemed to be slowing ever so slightly. Instead, he covered Harry with an accio-ed Slytherin green blanket and went to his private store of potions.

He picked out several, including a blood replenishing one, and headed back to Harry. He placed the potions on the coffee table and kneeled beside the wheezing body. He quietly intoned, “Vulnera Sanentur,” continuing his chant until the deep wound on Harry’s side closed up.

Harry was still wheezing, so he lightly moved his hands to the young man’s rib cage. He pressed down, ignoring Harry’s cry of pain, and felt a small break along his two of his ribs. He checked with his wand, and confirmed that Harry had fractured two ribs, most likely when he had been thrown off the bridge.

“Ferula,” Severus cast, binding and splitting the bones. He then placed a warming charm over Harry before turning to the potions on the table. He gave him the blood replenishing one first, tipping it into Harry’s mouth and ordering him to swallow.

A little voice in his mind told him of all the scenarios he had thought of for tonight that might have involved that exact order, this had not been one of them. He told it to shut up, and focused on getting the other potions into Harry.

As the last drop of the final potion made its way down Harry’s throat, Severus removed the blanket covering the young auror. He couldn’t see anything properly as the blood had dried across Harry’s skin. Severus held the tip of his wand right over the mess, and said, “Tergeo.”

Once the dried blood had gone, he could see the faint, long scar that was left behind by the slice. Harry opened his eyes slowly, and Severus looked back. A smile came to Harry’s lips.

“Thank you,” the young man said. He looked around the room, and Severus wondered what he was thinking. “You don’t invite anyone back to your place,” Harry recalled aloud.

Severus didn’t reply.

Harry looked at him again, a smile stretching his lips.

“Does that make me special?” he asked bravely in a teasing tone.

“You’ve always been special,” Severus replied automatically. Harry’s smile widened.

“I have, have I?”

“Always,” Severus confirmed, and he hadn’t been aware that they had been leaning in, but now here they were. Harry’s face was rather close to his, so close that he could feel his breath on his face and notice the gleam of mischief in the green eyes, and he had time enough to think that maybe he shouldn’t have given him a Pepper Up potion and instead should have let him sleep it off.

Then Harry was kissing him.

His lips were chapped and cold, but they were solid beneath his and filled him with warmth regardless. Harry pulled back for a split second, their lips touching still before he pressed forward again and gave him two more smaller, gentle kisses, as if he were testing the waters.

As Harry went back for a fourth small kiss, Severus moved his hand to the back of Harry’s head, keeping him in place as he kissed him back. He pressed forward, not letting Harry get away with another delicate press of their lips. He wanted to _feel_ this.

Severus locked their lips together as he moved forward on his knees to press himself further against the edge of the couch and closer to Harry. He licked across Harry’s bottom lip, and the second his mouth parted he dipped his tongue into the hot mouth.

Relentless, much like Harry had been during that duel, Severus mapped every inch of Harry’s mouth. His mind was a jumble of flashbacks, remembering Harry fighting. He’d been shocked when Harry had hit him with that curse, and thought for a second that Harry had misunderstood, thought that Severus had planned it, and was now turning against him. Then Harry had fought the Death Eater, forcing him back and away from him, and Severus understood that Harry was protecting him. He did feel frustrated that Harry thought he was allowed to come to his rescue, and Severus conveyed that feeling in the kiss. He made it hard, biting, and dominant so that Harry would never question what type of man Severus was.

“Sorry,” Harry gasped away, gulping in air as he clearly got the message.

Severus brought his mouth back to his own and sighed into the kiss as his tongue was surrounded by the hot and wet of Harry’s mouth, where it should be. He deepened the kiss, stroking deeper into Harry’s mouth, as he pulled Harry close to him.

Flashes of Harry dueling replayed in his mind. He was so fast, so effortless. As if dueling came as natural as breathing. It was no wonder he was the best auror there was, but Merlin was it a sight to behold. Spells came from his lips with ease, and Severus groaned at the thought of that as Harry’s tongue moved against his own. Severus thought of Harry fighting again, of the way he seemed to think a mile a minute and make fighting, a split second away from death, seem like a beautiful dance as he lunged and dodged, as he spun and cast. His power flowed through him and into every spell, the slightest flick of his wrist causing possible devastation. Yet, Harry never once used an Unforgivable. He was so talented when it came to dueling. As if the very thing existed solely for him.

Severus pulled Harry on top of him as he moaned deep within his chest. His hand slid to Harry’s arse, squeezing as he pulled him up the length of his body, and down to bring them together. Harry gasped into his mouth before letting out a delicious moan and sucking on his tongue. Severus encouraged him by continuing to squeeze his arse and starting to grind up into him.

They came up for air, and Harry kept his lips away against Severus’s wishes as he hung his head, eyes closed as he focused on their groins. He pushed down hard, making their rutting even more blissful and pulling a gasp from Severus as well. Harry panted about him, small little grunts coming out of him every so often.

It was disgustingly good. Impossibly good. Abysmally good. Sinful in the dirtiest ways and Severus _couldn’t stop_. They panted and thrust against each other, Severus wasn’t able to settle on closing his eyes from the utter bliss or forcing them open to watch Harry’s debauched expression. Just as he would do the latter the sensations would steal his breath away and his eyes would close. He was lost in what felt like everything right in the world before Harry would make a dirty little sound and he had to open his eyes to look at the wicked faces Harry made.

Like boiling shots of promised pure pleasure, Severus’s orgasm started to build low in stomach. Part of him wanted, needed, the release desperately. This baser side of him egged him on, bringing filthy things to his mind. Filling it with the earth shattering possibilities of noises that Harry would make, and how he’d look. Asking him if he wanted to get that blissful feeling along with Harry, making them both hot and sticky with their come. The answers to these questions were, of course, yes. More than anything, and the mere thoughts had his orgasm building steadily, that so close feeling almost too much for him to think of denying. Screaming at him to just go a little further and then he’d have it.

Severus was thrusting more erratically now, these thoughts tumbling around in his head and making him moan out as Harry seemed to be in the exact same position, calling out in a series of long ah’s as he built crushed their pelvises together.

It was only when their pricks brushed, and Severus almost yelled out at it that the other part of him managed to get heard. It’s message was simple: if he came now then he wouldn’t be able to fuck Harry yet, and didn’t he want to know what that was like? To feel himself buried inside Harry?

The answer was a strong and desperate yes.

Severus grabbed Harry’s hips tightly, stopping him from thrusting any further. Harry whined and tried to thrust anyway, the absolute loss of control getting to Severus and forcing him to have to close his eyes in attempt to not orgasm anyway.

“Sev,” Harry pleaded, unable to get anymore of his name out as he made a desperate sound.

“Not yet,” Severus replied, eyes still shut, “not yet.”

Harry relented and dropped down, his body resting on Severus’s, his pants hitting his robes. Severus almost laughed at the thought. He was still fully dressed. He’d almost came and he hadn’t even taken his clothes off. He smiled into Harry’s hair, which was conveniently right under his chin as Harry tucked himself into him as he calmed down. Severus placed a kiss on his head, one hand staying on Harry’s arse as the other traveled to his back. He stroked the smooth, lean muscle and smiled at Harry’s content sigh.

Soon enough, Harry’s hands found him as well. They started to tug on his robes, and he moved his head to look down at Harry. Green eyes met his.

“Want them off,” Harry said resolutely, then went back to tugging. He managed to push the black material off his shoulders, and Severus just let him, not actively helping. “Sev,” Harry whined when he couldn’t tug the material any further with Severus’s arms wrapped around him the way they were.

Severus wondered if this new nickname was something Harry planned to use in the future, and gave Harry, or rather his hair, a curious glance. He wasn’t completely averse to the idea, but only for Harry. He’d thoroughly hex anyone else – Albus included – if they even tried. As he thought about this, Harry sneakily managed to pull the robes from his arms. Severus smirked at Harry’s sound of victory, and stroked his hand across Harry’s arse, earning a lovely little yearning moan.

Harry’s hand traveled down his chest, stroking over his coat as he fingered each button. Feeling calmer, Severus decided their mouths had been apart for far too long, so his hand moved from the young man’s back up to his head, tilting it up for a kiss.

Harry kissed him without hesitation, automatically opening his mouth and making Severus smirk into the kiss. It was much slower than before, and Severus tangled his tongue with Harry’s almost lazily. He could feel sparks of arousal swirling higher as he felt the delicious glide of wet, hot muscle against his tongue.

Hands roamed his chest as Harry got more into the kiss, making small noises that spiked Severus’s arousal further. The kiss stayed slow, but it turned filthy on a dime. Severus showed Harry what it was like to get his mouth fucked by a tongue and all Harry could do in response was moan brokenly as his hands started pulling buttons undone.

Severus felt each button pop undone as Harry worked, all twelve coming undone in record time. Harry, when motivated, always excelled at whatever he did. Severus rewarded his efficiency by moving Harry hips until they were once again lined up, and thrust against him.

A need to touch Harry’s naked skin came to him in a surge of want. His hand slipped from Harry’s hip and wiggled their way between their bodies. He was faintly aware of Harry pushing his coat open and attacking the buttons of his white shirt. Severus’s fingers grazed across a hard length in Harry’s trousers and they both moaned.

Feeling Harry’s erection pressing against him through his robes as they rutted was one thing. Being able to touch just it through trousers was something else entirely. Severus’s fingers traced it down the length and back up, noting that it distracted Harry enough to leave him panting with his forehead against Severus’s still clothed chest. He stroked Harry’s prick roughly, pulling a whine from the young man that broke at the top.

“Feel good?” Severus asked in a voice that plunged into darkness. Harry bucked into his touch as he stoked him again.

Severus didn’t move his hand as Harry pulled back to look him in the eyes. Harry’s eyes were lust filled with pupils blown wild and shining in the candle light. Severus’s hips bucked up themselves at the heated gaze, and he moved to taste Harry’s mouth again but found the lips busy in a grin.

“What are you grinning at?” he asked suspiciously. Harry’s grin widened and his eyes dipped down to Severus’s body. In retaliation, Severus bucked his hips up and stayed there to grind against Harry, pulling more lovely moans out of him. Severus smirked in satisfaction, but it didn’t last long as Harry turned his face back to him, and the grin was wider.

“I’ve just realized that I’ve never seen you out of your coat before,” Harry explained. He ran his hands up Severus’s chest, and Severus could feel the warmth from Harry’s hands through his shirt. Harry glanced up at him through long black lashes.

With an eyebrow raised, Severus replied, “Well, you’re about to see mi in much less, so I suggest you get your amusement out now.”

“Not amusement,” Harry told him, silently accio-ing his wand to him. He pointed it at Severus’s shirt as he said, “Appreciation.”

With that he drew a line down Severus’s shirt, straight down the buttons, cutting the shirt open with a nonverbal as he did so. Severus gasped, and his head fell to the ground, neck arching back as he suddenly found himself panting, his arousal spiked as high as it had been during their rutting in seconds.

“Much better,” Harry murmured before lowering his head to place a kiss on Severus’s chest, right above his heart.

“Harry,” Severus croaked.

“Let’s hurry this up,” Harry responded, and his wand tip touched Severus’s trousers and they vanished. He did the same to his own a second later.

Severus groaned deeply as he felt Harry’s toned thighs straddling him, skin to skin. Harry didn’t help as he wiggled his hips back and forth, making Severus extremely aware of them both being naked except for boxers and Harry was sitting on top of him. Severus placed his hands on Harry’s bare waist and stroked the soft skin as he felt Harry’s hands caress his chest.

“One more thing,” Harry whispered, his lips suddenly a breath away.

Unable to put meaning to the words with such a distraction, Severus just closed the distance between them and kissed him. Harry chose that moment to do away with their boxers as well, and then there was unfathomable bliss as their pricks finally met without anything in the way. Instead of moaning loudly into Harry’s mouth, Severus got his own back and kissed Harry breathless.

Harry broke the kiss to gulp air into his lungs. Severus closed his eyes and let himself focus on the wonderful feeling of Harry, completely naked, on top of him.

“Lube?” Harry asked.

“You’re a wizard, Harry,” Severus drawled, not opening his eyes, hands on Harry’s hips.

“There’s spells for this?"

At Harry’s surprised tone, Severus opened his eyes in concern.

“Surely you’re joking?” He blinked. “You’re not joking.” He sighed, looking down at Harry’s lovely body pressed against his, smooth, toned, defined, and hard. “I was under the impression Poppy had that discussion with you all yearly starting third year.

“I missed them,” Harry said.

“Every year?”

“I was a little busy most of the time, if you hadn’t noticed,” Harry replied.

“You didn’t think to ask your Prefect or Minerva how to make them up?”

“Please don’t mention Professor McGonagall when we’re naked and hard, and you’re about to fuck me,” Harry said with a look of disgust.

Severus cocked an eyebrow at him.

“About to fuck? You’ve not even been prepared,” he purred.

“No spells for that, then?” Harry asked, “Good, that’d be embarrassing considering the amount of wizards I’ve already been with,” he muttered.

Severus’s grip tightened on Harry’s hips as a wave of anger washed over him. “If you don’t want me to mention your Head of House, then you’ll remember not mention any previous lovers,” he seethed. “Or this,” he thrust against Harry, biting back his moan as their unclothed pricks slid against each other for the first time, “won’t ever happen.”

“I just meant that I don’t know the spells, and if that’s how everyone does it then I’m surprised nobodies added that detail to their stories when they run and tell everyone that they just got fucked by Harry Potter,” Harry explained after a gasp.

“While they are available to use, some people do prefer to do it the muggle way still,” Severus said. “Personally, I don’t see a difference if the correct spell is used for lubrication. Oils can be messy and if it’s a potion, usually expensive and for more… advanced sex.”

“Kinky,” Harry laughed. “So, you know how to make those I’m guessing,” he said before moving to kiss along Severus’s jaw.

“Of course,” Severus replied, enjoying the attention, especially as Harry reached the scarred tissue where Nagini had struck. He couldn’t help the moans that came out, and Harry picked up on them. He licked broad strips across it. “Now, however, we’ll be using the spell,” Severus said, and Harry must have licked the vibrations under his lips and tongue as his prick twitched.

“Will you teach me?” Harry asked, lips grazing Severus’s neck.

Severus accio-ed his wand and felt a smile against his neck. He slid the tip of his elegant black wand down Harry’s back, making the young man shudder, and down to his arse. He moved his other hand to one of Harry’s arse cheeks and pulled it slightly away. Harry moaned.

“Lubrico,” he said, wand tip aimed at Harry’s hole.

“Oh,” Harry said, a frown coming to his face as he no doubt felt the liquid dripping out of him. Severus knew even though it was warm and just the right amount, it still felt odd the first few times. Harry wiggled around as he tested it out, and Severus had to bite his lip. It was as if he’d never done it before.

Severus stilled, his mind replaying what Harry had said a few minutes before.

_considering the amount of wizards I’ve already been with_

_when they run and tell everyone that they just got fucked by Harry Potter_

Severus cleared his throat. 

“Harry?” he asked lightly.

“Yeah?” Harry wasn’t paying attention, too busy moving his hips and focusing on, what Severus was now understanding to be, a completely new sensation.

“You’ve never bottomed, have you?” he said plainly.

Harry stopped undulating his hips. Green eyes met black. A sheepish look came to his face before it was replaced with a frown.

“I didn’t want any of them too,” he said. “It feels more intimate. Too much vulnerability for a quick fuck with someone you don’t know. It’s not something I’d ever consider with, as you say, a Fuck-N-Run.”

“Ah,” Severus said in acknowledgement. He was sure if he should think too much about that, but he certainly noted the warm little ball he got in his chest.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Harry asked, looking nervously down at him.

Severus stared back at him blankly.

“Harry, no man in their right mind would ever refuse taking you, let alone your virginity,” he stated.

“I’m not a virgin!”

“You are when it comes to bottoming, and that makes you have a sweet virgin arse that’s completely unclaimed,” Severus replied. To his glee, a blush spread across Harry’s cheeks.

How was this foolish romantic ever considered a playboy?

“Nobody has yet acquaint you with the joys of anal stimulation,” Severus continued, slipping a finger down Harry’s crack and swiping its pad across his hole. “I’ll be sure to give you a thorough introduction.” His finger pressed in, and Harry moaned at the stretch. As he felt the tight heat, Severus sucked in a breath. “Perhaps more than an introduction,” he corrected.

He opened Harry slowly, making sure he was fully used to one finger pushing in and out of him before he complied with his pleas of ‘more’ and the like. It was a wonder that he didn’t explode at the sounds Harry made as he was stretched. They were truly sinful.

As he moved to two fingers, Harry discovered what pushing back against them could do for him. Severus accidentally ended up knuckle deep as he hadn’t expected it. He watched Harry’s face for painful regret, but the little minx simply smiled with pleasure, a happy huff of breath coming from his slightly parted mouth.

Severus twisted his fingers, pulling all sorts of sounds from Harry, as his eyes burned darkly while he watched the various blissful faces Harry made. Scissoring his fingers brought Harry’s hips into overdrive, and soon Severus managed to add a third without problem.

“Please,” Harry begged.

Severus purred at the sound.

“Please,” Harry whined again.

“What?” Severus asked, feigning innocents as he hooked his fingers and shoved them in and out a little harder. On the fourth thrust in, he touched Harry’s prostate and Harry bucked as he yelled out from the sensation.

“I need-” Harry whined as Severus massaged the sensitive gland. “I’m so-“

Catching on, Severus fingered Harry harder, battering his prostate until Harry was literally quivering above him. Harry’s prick was leaking constantly, the liquid starting to coat Severus’s own prick. He moaned as Harry shifted his weight and leaned back to get more control. As Harry thrust his hips down harder to meet Severus’s fingers, his prick bobbed straight up.

Harry’s eyes were closed, and he was so obviously right there, that Severus decided to make him lose it. He leaned forward, not stopping his pace as he thrust his fingers in and out of Harry’s now loosened hole. As his mouth hovered over Harry’s prick, he looked up to the lust lost mess fucking himself as hard as he could.

“Harry,” Severus said calmly, and just as Harry’s shinning green eyes met his, he swallowed Harry’s prick down to the root in one smooth movement.

Harry yelled his release, coming into Severus’s mouth in hot spurts.

Severus swallowed easily, finding the taste surprisingly enjoyable when he usually didn’t. He allowed Harry to pump his pick into his mouth a few more times before he pulled off. Harry looked devastatingly debauched. He must have had a trace of his come on his lip as Harry’s eyes wouldn’t leave the spot, widening as he panted. Severus made a show to lick his lips before twisting his fingers, still buried inside Harry’s arse, in reminder.

“Yes,” Harry moaned.

“Still up for it?” Severus asked, voice hoarse.

Instead of answering, Harry shifted himself to sit on his hips. His hand wrapped around Severus’s prick, and Severus hissed at it, eyes slipping shut. He listed the ingredients for wolfsbane in his mind, trying to take his mind off the feeling of Harry’s lovely hand touching his achingly hard prick.

As Harry lowered himself, Severus mentally prepared for the contact. It barely helped restrain his groan as he felt warm wetness hit the sensitive tip of his prick. He forced himself to breathe steadily as various thoughts, each dirtier than the last, swirled around his mind. Thoughts like the fact his pre-come was going to mix with the lubricant in Harry’s arse. The lubricant that he put there. The lubricant he put there so he could fuck Harry’s brave, reckless brains out.

“Fuck,” he breathed as his prick entered searing heat. Harry let out a soft, surprised moan, and it didn’t help at all with Severus’s quickly building orgasm. “Fuck,” he whispered as Harry kept going, making those same little moans all the way down, undulating his hips as he got used to it.

“It feels so-“

Severus wasn’t sure he was going to be able to handle what came out of Harry’s mouth.

“I feel so **fully** ,” Harry groaned as if he were the one taking unbelievable, sinfully wicked pleasure.

“Merlin, stop,” Severus begged, throwing all of his self-control at not coming right then.

“Wha?” Harry’s blissed out face had a soft frown as he tried to express his confusion.

“If you want this to last any longer, then you’ll give me a minute,” Severus said, aiming for calm but failing miserably.

Severus mentally recited the ingredients and instructions for all the potions he assigned his first years. He was on the last few instructions of the last one when Harry started to move. It was a slow but sure upwards motion, the velvety wet heat of Harry’s arse moving along his prick.

“Potter,” he growled.

“Not my dad,” Harry murmured in response to his first name not being used.

Severus’s impending orgasm, and very nearly his erection itself, vanished instantly at the thought of James Potter. He made a disgusted sound, and almost shoved Harry off of him, but Harry must have realized what he’d done as he flung himself forward and put his forehead to Severus’s.

“No, no, no. That’s not what I meant. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Harry said quietly, eyes closed and lips moving against Severus’s as he spoke. Severus wasn’t sure how he felt and he still had half a mind to push Harry off him. “Hey, focus on me,” Harry whispered. “Focus on me. Focus on us. Right here. Right now.” Harry’s hands stroked down his sides, and Severus didn’t move, curious to see where this would go but ready to bolt all the same. “Focus on my hands on my voice,” Harry told him. “On my lips brushing against yours.” Harry brushed his lips lightly across his, and Severus felt a little bit of his disgust diminish. “Focus on my hands stroking your chest.” Harry’s hands continued to stroke, gentle and soothing. "Focus on the touch of my skin on yours.” Severus became aware of every point they connected. “Focus on the feeling of my thighs pressing against your sides.” Severus wanted less and less to flee. “Focus on the weight of me sitting on top of you.” Severus felt held down and secure. “Focus on the heat surrounding your prick.” Severus couldn’t remember why he wanted to leave. “Focus on the slide of my body as you’re pumped into me.” Harry started to move, slowly and sensually, and Severus focused on the amazing feeling. “Focus on urges your body is giving you.” Harry whispered. “Focus on the need to claim my virgin territory.” Severus was panting and it all felt so good. “Focus on my need for you to take me.” Harry increased his speed. “Focus on my need for you to fuck me hard.” Harry’s voice was shaking. “Focus on my need for you to make me _feel_ it.” Harry was panting now, slamming himself down, and Severus wasn’t sure when his hands had started to hold Harry’s hips or meet him thrust for thrust. “Focus on my need for you to make me come all over you as your prick pounds me.” Harry was moaning between his words, having to pause now as he got lost in the fuck. Severus’s back and neck were arched, his head pushing into the ground as he moaned loudly. “Focus on my need for you to fill me with your hot release, only-“ Harry whined and panted as if he couldn’t breathe, “Only you.” Harry was smashing himself down, and Severus wasn’t sure who was moaning louder. “Focus on my need for you, my need for you, my need for, my need for, need for-“ the whining was desperate and lost and Harry started chanting, “you, you, you, you, only you, only you, only, only, only-“

Harry screamed Severus’s name as he came.

He slammed himself down, his body contacting and spasming around Severus’s rock hard prick as he came again for the second time that night. His hot, pearl-white come ejaculated out onto Severus’s chest in streaks. He moaned dirtily as he finished.

Severus’s jaw was locked and his teeth were gritted as he forced himself not to come. He’d never had to use such determination and will power, but he had to thrust into Harry. He had to flip them over and drive into the gorgeous wizard who’d just came brokenly atop him.

“You fucking tease,” Severus told Harry once the young man seemed able to breathe at least.

Severus held Harry securely to him and rolled them over with ease. In his blissful afterglow, Harry didn’t realize what was happening until he was on his back. Severus pulled Harry’s arse onto his lap as he started to thrust. Harry gasped at the sensitivity, but Severus could tell he loved it.

“You want me to fuck you?” Severus asked through gritted teeth. He held Harry’s hips, and ground his prick into Harry’s prostate. Harry yelled. “You want me to make you feel it?” He relished in the feeling of thrusting into Harry. It was beyond words. “You want me to pound you?” His mind was a disgusting mess of images that all involved Harry full to the brim with his come. He moaned and fucked into Harry harder. “You want me to come in you? Fill you with my seed? Mark you and ruin you?” Harry was thrashing beneath him, begging and repeating his name as if it were a sacred prayer. “Is that what you want, Harry? Because I’ll give it to you. I’ll give so much more to you. Everything. Fuck you so hard you can’t think of anything else for weeks. You fucking gorgeous, irresistible, perfect-“ Severus’s orgasm was so close and he didn’t have the strength or desire to stave it off anymore. “Fuck!” he yelled, pistoling his hips so fast and hard that Harry shook with the force, reduced to a gurgling, whimpering, frantic mess.  “Going to make you _mine_ ,” Severus growled and Harry came for a third time, spurting the small amount left in his balls all over his own stomach.

As Harry’s hole tightened around his prick, Severus thrust in until he was buried to the hilt, and came harder than he ever had, Harry’s names on his lips. He could feel ropes and ropes of come coating Harry’s passage, spraying his prostate and the perfect walls of tight, soft heat inside his body. He groaned at it, feeling Harry collapse utterly boneless beneath him.

Severus pulled out several seconds later when he thought he could move, and lay down beside Harry. They were panting, hot, sweaty, and covered in Harry’s come. Severus knew his robe, which they had inadvertently used as a blanket below them, would be covered in come as well, especially as his come leaked out of Harry arse. It was a wonderful thought, how full of him Harry had been and now was. How he would be again if either of them could ever recovered enough.

Without thinking, Severus pulled Harry closer, moving his body half on top of him. He cast a few quick nonverbal, wandless spells to clean them up and freshen them a bit. The beautiful afterglow was unaffected, as was evident from Harry’s happy sigh as he snuggled closer.

Severus wrapped an arm around him, burying his face in Harry’s dark hair. The world could fall apart right then and he wouldn’t even move to acknowledge it. This, right as they were, was everything he needed. He wondered if next time they’d be able to make it to the bed.

“Sev?” Harry asked, finding it hard to respond in his afterglow haze. His voice was sleepy and he didn’t bother to open his eyes or move at all. Severus, feeling much the same, hummed back in question. “Is this not a Fuck-N-Run, then?” Harry asked with a tired smile, taking note of Severus’s complete lack of intentions of letting him go.

“Shut up,” Severus replied affectionately, nuzzling into Harry further as he pulled him just a little bit closer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Harry's outfit was inspired by [this ](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/32200000/Daniel-Fan-Art-daniel-radcliffe-32215744-393-500.png) dashing photo of Daniel Radcliffe.
> 
> Harry's hair is inspired by [this ](http://s6.favim.com/610/150812/books-cute-daniel-radcliffe-hot-Favim.com-3103696.jpg) sexy picture of Harry as an Auror.
> 
> I don't know why but I put a lot of thought into Harry's shoes:  
> Ginny's shoe looks like [this ](https://guideimg.alibaba.com/images/shop/71/08/14/7/yuanmai-mens-formal-fashion-ankle-low-heel-flat-lace-up-rounded-toe-waterproof-leather-boots_2928887.jpg) but is in [this ](http://www.maths-sci-it-tuition.co.uk/images/shoes/Bugatti%20Dark%20Blue%20Dark%20Blue%20Walton%20Mens%20Formal%20Lace%20Up%20Shoes%20-%20F9d8422879.jpg) colour, while Hermione chose [this](http://media.office.co.uk/medias/sys_master/root/h1c/h46/9035919589406.jpg) shoe.


End file.
